Chatter, the sound of clinking cutlery, and occasional laughter filled the dining room where the students gathered to have their breakfast.
Bella entered quietly, her tray clutched tightly in her hands. She wasn't in the mood for breakfast, hadn't been in days, but she had to eat anyway. Her mind replayed the vision from yesterday over and over. She couldn't do anything successfully to forget it. The demons. Their eyes. Their teeth. Their words. The long whip.
And Luca.
She hadn't seen him since yesterday's explosive confrontation. Part of her hated herself for missing him and lashing out so badly, but the other part hated him more for knowing what was happening and refusing to help her.
She moved to sit near Elara at the far table, where there were fewer people. Elara shot her a questioning look, but before either could speak—
"Bella."
The voice silenced everyone.
The chitchatter and laughter from the girls, the noise, everything died down. One could clearly hear the drop of a needle in the stillness. Dozens of heads turned towards the direction of the voice.
Luca Damaris.
He stood at the head of the hall, dressed in his uniform, with his shirt rolled at the sleeves, his fingers stained with paint as usual. But what held everyone's attention wasn't him.
It was what he was holding.
A painting.
He carried it with reverence, like something sacred. It was large and wide, nearly the size of a bathroom window, but he faced the front side towards himself, hiding it away from the crowd as he walked slowly toward Bella.
Her mouth parted, but no sound came out.
He reached her table, stopping only a few inches away, then slowly he turned the painting to face her.
The hall gasped in one accord.
Bella saw herself in his painting, carefree and laughing.
Not just a smile, but a full-blown laughter. With the clever strokes of his brush, he caught her mid-laugh, sunlight shining in her eyes, her hair spilling around her shoulders. Her dimples, the curve of her mouth, the brightness that even she had forgotten she once possessed, it was all there.
It was… breathtaking.
Rendered in charcoal, acrylics, and oil, the portrait captured more than just her face. It captured her essence. It captured her. Bella. As if he'd peeled her from her own memory of when life was entirely different, good, beautiful and given her to the world.
"I painted you," Luca said calmly, looking deeply into her eyes.
Bella stood frozen on the spot.
"What is this?" she asked, barely able to speak.
"It's a tribute, Bella," he said simply. "To your light. Your beauty. The positivity you exude."
Whispers erupted around the room.
"He painted Bella?"
"Did he just—"
"What positivity is he talking about? This babe has been a cold bitch since she resumed."
"He painted that overnight?"
"She looks… beautiful. Truly."
Bella's cheeks flushed as attention swarmed her like bees. Some girls glared with naked envy, their eyes shining with jealousy. A few whispered openly about her, gushing over the painting.
It was indeed very beautiful.
Elara cleared her throat. "Okay, drama prince. Thanks for the exhibition, now maybe let the girl breathe?"
But Luca only looked at Bella.
"Come with me," he said softly.
And like a fool, she stood and walked with him all the way out—
Much to the dismay of Luca's admirers.
---
They didn't speak as they walked down the long walkway to his hideout.
Bella stepped into the familiar, strange warmth of Luca's sanctuary. She stood in the center of the room, silently trying to fight the fire his presence always ignited inside her.
He shut the door gently behind him.
"I know you're angry," he said, voice low. "And you have every right to be."
"I don't want a portrait, Luca," she snapped. "I want answers. I need them."
He walked toward her slowly. "I know you do, okay? Just hear me out."
He held her hands as he spoke. "That portrait was for me," he murmured. "Not for you."
She blinked. "What?"
"I painted it because I couldn't sleep. Because your face wouldn't leave my mind. I remembered your smile, the one you gave me the first time I brought you into this room. And I wanted it back. Even if only on canvas. So I brought it to life in that painting."
Bella stared at him, stunned.
"I've been a coward," he continued. "By avoiding you. Avoiding your questions. But I'm not avoiding them because I don't care, but God, I care too much. But because the truth runs way deeper than you think, Bella. And the knowledge of it could put you in danger. Hell, not could. It would put you in danger. That's what I've been trying to avoid."
She shook her head, whispering, "No. Whatever it is? It's happening already. The danger is here. If not, I wouldn't be having strange dreams and visions. Imagine the one I saw yesterday. Leaving me in the dark would only make things worse. That's not protecting me, Luca."
Luca exhaled, stepping closer. "Listen, Bella, I promise to tell you all about it, okay? But not right now. There's something else I need you to know..."
She looked at him in confusion. "What's that?"
Holding her face gently in his palms, he said, "You dominate my thoughts, Bella. Morning, night, in class, out of class… I can't breathe without thinking of you. I paint and it's you. I dream and it's you. You've haunted me in the best and worst ways.
Ever since I laid my eyes on you the day you walked in the gates of Whitethorn. And I don't know how to stop these feelings. I didn't know they'd gotten this deep. When you slammed the door and walked out yesterday, I couldn't sleep knowing you were that mad at me. I stayed up all night instead, painting you."
The silence between them pulsed.
"Luca… I-I-I don't know what to say," she replied softly, her voice trembling.
"Sshh, it's okay. You don't need to say anything. I just need you to understand what I feel for you now."
"But no… you barely know me, and we barely spend time together."
"I know what I'm saying, Bella. I just do. One day you'll understand. But I'm making a promise to you right now, I will surely protect you. Even if I have to do that with the last drop of my strength. I would protect us."
"There's an us?" she challenged.
He took a step closer. Then another. His hand brushed a loose strand from her face. "There was always an 'us.' There would always be an us."
Bella's lips parted. "That's not how you made me feel yesterday."
"No," he whispered, "but what about this?"
He leaned in and kissed her.
It wasn't soft.
It was heat. Hunger. Fire.
Bella responded with a gasp, then her hands found his hair, gripping. He kissed her like she was oxygen. Like he had waited centuries. His hands circled her waist, pulling her tight into his chest.
He lifted her and carried her to the low couch by the wall.
Gently, he sat and pulled her onto his laps.
Their fingers grew more urgent, searching, seeking, finding.
The world shrank.
There were no demons. No secrets. Just them.
He tugged at her headband and freed her hair, sinking his fingers in their softness.
He parted her lips with his tongue, mingling with hers in the process.
It was nothing like Bella had ever felt before.
His right hand left her hair and came down to shed her coat. In another instant, his shirt came off. Their skin met, rubbing each other with warmth.
His lips trailed her neck, long urgent fingers running down her spine.
Bella whispered his name in deep throat moans. He lost it. His kisses trailed down her collarbone, down to her breasts,
while the other finger undid his belt and trouser zip.
He freed himself from his boxers, and the tip of his penis found her entrance, warm, wet, and moist.
She was ready for him.
"Bella," he groaned as he moved slowly inside her deep wetness.
Bella's eyes rolled to the back as her body expanded to accommodate him.
They moved together, slow, then wild, until the room was full of heat and soft moans.
Moving and moving, thrusting and thrusting, Bella came slowly to the edge.
"Lu… Luca…"
He took that as an invitation to go deeper.
And deeper he went.
Then, with one deep, intentional slam, she finally gave in and screamed her release.
---
When it was over, they lay tangled on his couch, the evening light from the windows painting shadows over their bare skin.
Bella rested her head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, calm and steady.
"You still won't tell me everything, will you?" she whispered.
Luca kissed her hair. "Not tonight. But I will. I promise."
Her eyes fluttered shut.
For now… she would let herself have this.
Tomorrow could come with whatever demons it pleased.